


Someday You Will Find Me Caught Beneath the Landslide

by embroiderama



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coming Out, Community: shoot_the_curl, Gay Bar, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Undercover As Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-05
Updated: 2011-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 08:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going undercover at a gay club shouldn't be such a big deal, considering it's not exactly the first time Danny's danced with a guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday You Will Find Me Caught Beneath the Landslide

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [](http://shoot-the-curl.livejournal.com/profile)[**shoot_the_curl**](http://shoot-the-curl.livejournal.com/) for [](http://delicatale.livejournal.com/profile)[**delicatale**](http://delicatale.livejournal.com/)'s prompt, "don't blame the world, it's the DJ's fault." Title from Oasis's "Champagne Supernova," of course. Thank you to [](http://zortified.livejournal.com/profile)[**zortified**](http://zortified.livejournal.com/) for the very swift beta.

Standing outside of the club, Danny could already feel the music throbbing through him, and part of him wanted to let go, let it take him in, take him over. That was the part of him that still felt like he was 18, taking the bus to the PATH train to the subway, wearing stupid clothes and dancing all night and absolutely not taking any horse tranquilizers. Except maybe once, a little, by accident. He shook himself and looked down at himself--black dress shirt unbuttoned at his throat, gray jeans, perfectly respectable.

Steve was standing next to him, just wearing jeans and a t-shirt but the man knew how to work it. Black tee a size too small, short sleeves riding up into the ridges of his biceps. Jeans low-riding and worn, hugging his ass. It was obscene, and Danny had to drag his gaze away before he made this ruse look a little too real. It would've been easier to go undercover with Kono or Jenna, but they weren't the right clientele for this club, and Chin didn't like anybody else running the equipment in the van. For this op, they wouldn't be on live surveillance due to interference from the music, but they'd have coms to activate if anything went down.

There was a new player in town, dealing crank in the high-end tourist areas rather than the trailer parks, and the intel had his HQ located in Honolulu's most popular gay club. Danny had steeled himself as soon as the issue came up, waited for sideways homophobic comments from the team he'd come to trust, but the comments never came. They treated it like any other op, Steve volunteering himself and Danny to get inside the club, and Danny had just nodded in agreement, feeling grateful and guilty. And, right now, extremely awkward.

Close as they all were, they didn't exactly go for reminiscing about sexual exploits or playing "I never." He'd been married to Rachel, he had a daughter; coming out and saying, "Oh, by the way, I fucked a lot of guys in the 90's, and I'm thinking about getting back on that bus now that I'm done with pining hopelessly over Rachel," seemed like over-sharing. So, for once in his life, Danny kept his mouth shut and where it landed him was standing in front of a dance club full of men, standing next Steve in all of his hot, badass, annoying, _straight_ glory.

"Hey, we're a go." Steve's words startled Danny out of his mental whirlpool.

"What?" He looked up and saw the doorman, a tall guy with biceps that were frankly ridiculous, pointing at them and waving them on. "Oh, awesome."

They walked inside, Steve's hand a warm weight on Danny's lower back, and if the music had been loud outside, inside it was overwhelming. There was a reason people got fucked up to go to clubs, Danny remembered. He nodded over towards the long, shining bar along one wall of the club. "I need a fucking drink."

"Yeah, okay. Get me a beer? I'll do some recon toward the back and meet you by that post." Steve pointed to the meeting spot, and then he was off, moving gracefully through the crowd and looking like he was finding his way to the bathrooms rather than scoping out enemy territory.

Danny pushed his way through to the bar, and when the bartender turned his way he resisted the urge to order a couple of shots, slam them back to take the edge off this whole charade--"pretending" to be gay, pretending to be dating Steve, the truth and the never-to-be blended together so uncomfortably. Instead he just got two Blue Moons, paid cash, tipped well, then worked his way over to the post where he could see his partner already waiting. Steve was leaning back against the concrete, his arms crossed over his chest, his hips jutting out and _holy shit_. His commitment to the role was somewhere between admirable and frightening, and Danny had to bite back his desire to just let go, to throw himself into this and see how far he could get before Steve realized he was serious.

All he had to think about was what the next day would be like, whatever look would be on Steve's face. Not disgust, maybe not, but discomfort definitely. Pity. There was no way Danny wanted to live with that. All he had to do was keep himself buttoned down for the night, remember that he was a grown-up with a job to keep and co-workers he didn't want to sexually harass. Ace of Base transitioned into Everything But the Girl, and seriously? Did they have any music newer than this?

"Beer," Danny said eloquently as he handed one of them to Steve.

"Thanks." Steve took a long pull on the beer and then tilted his head back to swallow, as if he was trying even harder to look like an International Male model. "So, it looks like Pak is working out of one of the VIP lounges, and they're just past the dance floor. So what do you think? Ready to bust a move?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I can't wait to see this." He trailed behind Steve as they made their way past the main bar area to the dance floor in the back, and he couldn't help but see the looks they were getting--the looks Steve was getting, with the notable exception of the man who brushed against Danny, murmuring, "Hey, little bear," in his ear before the crowd separated them.

Danny psyched himself up to just move around the dance floor near Steve, just go with the groove of the music without getting too close, and then the song changed. "Champagne Supernova." What was this, 90's night? He looked around, saw the banners draped in front of the DJ's booth and yes, damn it. 90's night. And this was a slow song clearly intended for just one thing.

Steve moved up into Danny's space, but just spoke into his ear. "We don't have to dance if you don't want to."

"Hey, it's what we're here for, right?" _Suck it up,_ he told himself. _Relax. And keep your hands to yourself._ But then Steve's hands were on his waist, and Danny's arms hung awkwardly at his sides until he wrapped his hands around Steve's arms. Some of his fingers were on soft, worn cotton, others on warm skin; it was distracting, and Danny had remind himself to dance like an adult at a club, not a tween at an eighth grade dance. The teenager inside him was hanging his purple-haired head in shame.

"Hey." Steve's voice startled him out of his reverie. Again. "I wouldn't have volunteered you for this if I thought you'd be so uncomfortable."

"No, hey, it's cool." Liam Gallagher crooned about getting high, and Danny looked up to see Steve making a muted version of the aneurysm face.

"Clearly it's not. I guess we never really talked about this stuff. I didn't know you had a problem with it." Now Steve was the one dancing like a stiff thirteen year-old who couldn't remember how his knees worked, his hands still around Danny's waist but now barely touching him. And he sounded off. Sounded...pissed.

"A problem? I don't have a problem."

"I just never thought you were a homophobe, Danny." Steve shook his head, and the look on his face--Danny realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that the look was _hurt_.

"Whoa, hey. Hey." He squeezed his hands on Steve's arms. "I'm not a homophobe." Danny swallowed hard, decided he didn't have much to lose. "Look, this is far from the first time I ever danced with a guy, okay? It's maybe been a while but--"

Steve stopped moving, not even pretending to dance anymore. "Are you serious?" There was a strange, hopeful look in his eyes, and Danny's stomach ached from it.

"I was with Rachel for a long time, but before that?" Danny closed his eyes and watched the lights of the club flicker through his eyelids, let himself slip back in time for a few heartbeats. When he opened his eyes, Steve was watching him keenly. "Let's just say 90's night is a good little flashback."

"So it was a phase or something?"

Danny snorted. "Only if being single is a phase and being married is a phase. I've just been...it's hard to jump back into it all, you know? And what about you, what are you not telling me here?"

"All I ever wanted to do was join the military. And oh hell, you know? Don't Ask Don't Tell. And I like women, a little." Steve's hands were snug on Danny's waist again. "I've had a few interesting shore leaves though." He leaned in closer, and Danny lost his grip on Steve's arms, had to wrap his arms around the broad plane of Steve's back. "If you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Danny whispered, and he could feel Steve's breath against his throat, feel Steve's heart beating through his ribs, through his back. And he wasn't even high. _Jesus_. Then, in the middle of that quiet, Ricky Martin came blaring through the club, and the energy of the dance floor cranked up sixteen notches around them.

Danny pulled Steve off to the side, into a relatively quiet pocket of space. "I think we need to scrub this thing for tonight. Seriously, neither of us is going to be on top of our game here."

Steve looked guilty, and then glanced down at his watch. "Yeah, I think you're right. I think, um, we can say that Pak's VIP lounge is empty and we need to try another night."

"Whatever story you want to tell works for me." Danny bumped his shoulder against Steve's arm. "And then I'm thinking you, me, a six-pack and some true stories, yeah?"

Steve smiled then, his eyes warm and his face relaxed. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

Danny wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch the stubble on his chin, the curve of his cheek as he smiled. And so he did, and the combination of rough and smooth under his fingers only made him want to touch more. "I wish I'd said something sooner. I'm sorry I let you think--"

"I'm in no place to criticize. It's not like I gave you any idea."

"Aw, whatever. What do you say we go back to the van, give the rest of the team the bad news?"

"Okay. I guess we better keep up our cover 'til we're outside though, right?"

"Since we're planning to come back, I'd say that's an excellent plan."

As they turned to leave, Danny slipped his arm around Steve's waist, and he felt Steve's arm wrap around his, a broad hand resting on his hip. Side-by-side, getting through the crowd to the front door was slow-going but Danny found that he really didn't mind.


End file.
